


Penumbra

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But she's a smart cookie, Dominant Oikawa Tooru, Drugs, F/M, Gambler Reader, Gambling, Gang, I'll add more tags later, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealous Oikawa Tooru, Mafia AU, Possessive Oikawa Tooru, Reader likes math cause why not, Readers a scaredy cat, Slightly Yandere? But not really, Smart but lacks common sense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Perhaps gambling wasn't the best of ideas after getting laid off from your measly part-time job. Or maybe it was.You hadn't dabbled in such a risky business in awhile, but it was something you used to depend on. Something you used to make a living on, until you had been able to afford university tuition. You knew it wouldn't be the worst thing to turn back to your bad habits just once, right?You were extraordinary at all aspects of gambling, after all. You were a master of any game, you name it. Blackjack, Poker, Baccarat, Pai Gow, Chess... All you needed was some petty cash to pay off your rent and afford some bare-minimum groceries.The last thing you expected was to get wrapped up in the shady, gang-affiliated business of the Aoba Casino's elite.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the Mafia AU I told y'all I wanted to start! I chose to make the love interest Oikawa, cause I love the dynamic of Aoba Johsai so much. Not a lot of action in this chapter, it's more of an intro to our character. Fair warning this chapter is probably going to be BORINGGG cause I wanted to introduce Reader's smarty pants vibes. The chess descriptions gonna suck lol.
> 
> And if y'all didn't notice, I may have been a little inspired by the show The Queen's Gambit on Netflix. You need to watch it it's SOOOO GOOD
> 
> Also idk how any of these games actually work so sorry if the way I write them is all wrong! I'm just doing what works for me lol. I did some super quick research into the best possible Blackjack hand but after that I kinda just guessed.
> 
> And finally, I know casinos aren't actually allowed to have customers gamble on Chess, but in this story I'm making that a thing. Makes reader-chan smarter!

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. If only you had the foresight to stop yourself that night.

It was just supposed to be a few nights in and out, winning a decent amount of cash to get by for the week. And you had been doing pretty damn good, too. The first time, to not draw attention to yourself, you ended the night with just over 21,000 Yen in earnings from your games. You easily could have milked the Casino out of a few more hundred to make it to an even 105,000 Yen, but you held yourself back. 

The next few nights, over the span of a couple weeks, you had steadily increased your earnings. Gambling, to you, wasn't a game. It wasn't luck. It was an _equation_. A calculation that came down to a few simple moves and specific plays. It didn't take a lot of effort for you to read your opponents, analyze their options, and act accordingly. You were undefeated. 

It wasn't much of a surprise to you when, on your 6th visit to the Aoba Casino in Tokyo, one of the Pit Clerks approached you to invite you to their VIP Casino. In the moment, you hid the smirk from your face. _This_ was what you needed. The VIP rooms were where the high rollers of Tokyo went. CEO's, socialites, and millionaires alike played in these rooms. And then there were people like you. The rare ones. The ones who played with something beyond just dumb luck; the ones who played with just their intellect and _won_ , consistently. 

And so on your 7th visit, you came to the VIP section. This time, in preparation, you had dressed yourself for the occasion. Unlike the regular playing rooms, the VIP room was far more strict with their black-tie dress code. 

You had entered the room with an air of confidence, your sleek nude stilettos clicking across the marbled floor. You could feel eyes on you, watching the way your hips swung in the tight, off the shoulder white cocktail dress you wore. You handed your faux (though nobody needed to know that) fur coat to the coat attendant, before making your way over to the center of the room. It wasn't a surprise to you that the room was mostly full of older, wrinkly rich men, with beautiful young women clinging to their arms. 

You ignored many of their stares and made your way to an empty seat at a Blackjack table, smiling at the dealer. Other men, and even some women, were quick to join you at the table. And so the game began.

Your eyes were like a predator's as you watched the hidden cards of your opponents, narrowing slightly as you moved your gaze to their faces. Many of them, clearly hardened players, had nearly impenetrable poker faces. But your eyes never missed a thing. You didn't miss the way one of the men's lip twitched downwards in distress, or the way one of the women's fingers grazed across the bottom of her last card.

You moved on to look at your own deck, mulling over your dozens of options in your head. It wasn't hard for you to visualize your possible moves matched with your opponents, it was something you had been able to do since you were young. You saw the cards move across the table in your mind, flickering between your different options to find the best one. And then you saw it. You were dealt another card, and you instantly knew what to do. Your hand was a Hard 20, meaning you had 2 cards that equaled the value of 10. It was a winning hand.

You and your opponents all lowered your cards to the table, revealing you as the winner. You smiled humbly as the dealer pushed the chips towards you, allowing you to collect them. You ignored the frustrated curses of the others at the table and bowed respectfully, before taking your leave. With these chips, you had already made 420,000 Yen (equivalent to $4,000). _The VIP room sure was paying off_ , you thought with a smirk. 

You slowly walked away, gazing around the opulent room in search of your next game. You wanted something that relied more on your own skills rather than the cards you were given. Your eyes then fell on a particularly busy corner of the room, where you saw a few tables of chess players duking it out. _Perfect_. Chess had always been a favorite of yours, yet it wasn't commonly offered in most casinos. Clearly, this casino had it available only for the VIP room.

You strode over to the section filled with men puffing on fat cigars, your heels clicking steadily. You watched with satisfaction as one man left a table in frustration, clearly having lost. You were quick to slide into the leather seat, holding out a hand to the older gentleman in front of you. 

"Care for another game?" You asked, smiling as the man returned your handshake with a nod. His gaze seemed... Unsatisfied, though for what reason you couldn't tell.

"I've never enjoyed playing against women, but I'll give you a chance." His voice was gruff as he rearranged the pieces. Your eyes narrowed.

"Well, I'm sure my gender won't be a problem here. I hope to change your mind about playing against women." You replied, keeping your tone even. Men like him pissed you off, but it made you all the more excited to beat him. He only grunted in response before motioning for you to begin, since you were playing the white set.

You chose your opening move carefully, and the older man was just as careful with his response. However, as you both continued to play, you found his strategy weak and thoughtless. You had beaten him in a mere 20 moves. The man, angry with his loss, demanded a second game and doubled his wager. You agreed without hesitation. His second defense was stronger than the last, though still weak. You barely even had to think as you countered him, winning once more.

Grumbling in irritation, the man finally surrendered a fair amount of his chips to you. You took them gratefully, thanking him for the game. "I hope your consideration of gender in a game of chess changes sometime soon." You stood up from your seat, and it was then and only then that you noticed you had garnered a bit of a crowd. Blinking in surprise you met the faces of a few older and middle aged men, eager to ask you to play them. And so you did.

It wasn't hard to beat them. You were an excellent chess player, after all. You had spent many nights in college playing and analyzing strategies and defenses. These men clearly did not play very often. You had beaten all of them in less than 50 moves each. 

But during each game, too engrossed to notice your surroundings, you failed to see more and more people gathering around the chess area to watch your decisive, quick matches. Each time you ended a match, you were surprised to find more people watching you. You hoped one of them would be a good challenger. 

And so, your prayers were answered. You heard shuffling near the back of the crowd, and watched in confusion as the men and women parted like the Red Sea. All heads had turned to the person making their way through the throngs of people. You didn't understand why some seemed to step away in fear. Why some people's eyes had widened. Why some had simply turned and left at the sight of the newcomer.

You raised a brow as the crowd parted near the end, allowing the stranger to step forward. Your breath nearly caught in your chest at the sight of him. You suddenly forgot all about the strange fear you had witnessed among the people around you. You barely noticed the way your previous opponent had stiffened in his seat, nearly trembling. 

It was all because of him. It was undeniable; this man was beautiful in every sense of the word. You had never described a man as _pretty_ , but that's exactly what he was. He seemed to be only a few years older than yourself. His soft chocolate hair and matching domineering eyes, trained on your sitting figure. He was dressed in a tailored grey suit with a navy tie, clearly designer by the looks of it. A pair of glasses hung on the pocket where his navy hanker-chief sat. This man had an air of dominance around him; he commanded the attention of everybody around him.

You gulped as he slowly approached, his eyes not moving from you. You barely noticed the second man standing closely behind him, in a black and white suit similar to the brunette's. His face was much more stern and menacing, his hair spiky and black and his eyes a deep sage green. He watched you with much more apprehension than interest, unlike the first man.

"I've heard there's been some commotion among our regular chess players. A newbie in this section, and a woman at that, beating out all of our players in less than 50 moves. I must say, I'm impressed." His voice matched his appearance, deep and sultry. He took another step forward, holding out his hand. Your brows rose in surprise, your mouth opening slightly. You stood quickly, clasping his large, rough hand with your own smaller one. You gave it a gentle shake. 

He hummed in appreciation, looking down at your hand and turning it over. You were even more surprised as he suddenly brought it forwards, up to his lips. He placed a chaste kiss upon the skin of your knuckles before letting you go, allowing your arm to slowly move back to your side. He towered over your 5'6 frame; he had to be at least 6'0. A bright blush erupted across your cheeks, shocked. 

"Oikawa Tooru, dear. If you'd allow me, could I join you for a game? I must warn you, I'm undefeated." His tone was teasing as his chocolate eyes bore into your own. The man previously sitting before you was quick to scramble out of the seat. You barely heard the nervous murmuring of the crowd as they watched you in something akin to fear.

You nodded slowly. "(Y/N) (L/N). I'd love another game." You smiled gently, taking your seat once more. The black haired man behind Oikawa huffed in irritation, crossing his arms as he took a step back towards the front of the crowd. Oikawa waved a hand at him, as if shooing away his irritated nature. He turned back to you with a teasing smile, taking his seat across from you.

"Let's begin." He stated, moving one of his white pawns to make his opening. He chose the queen's gambit opening. You took your time in making your move, accepting the gambit and moving one of your pawns in front of his own. Satisfied, Oikawa continued to make his plays.

You didn't notice the uneasy movements of the surrounding crowd, watching your exchange of plays in tense silence. You knew nothing about this man, Oikawa, but from what you could tell he was well respected around this casino, if not downright feared. For what, you didn't know or care to learn. All you knew was that he was _undefeated_ , and that you wanted to break that record. And so the game continued for another strained 20 minutes. The two of you would get stuck between plays, lost in thought about your next strategies.

At one point, you thought Oikawa had you cornered. It seemed like it, at least. He was so close to Checkmate. Frowning, you rested your head on your chin and narrowed your eyes down at the board. Oikawa watched you with narrowed, interested chocolate brown eyes, intrigued by the way you were in deep thought. He hadn't played such an intense game in a _very_ long time. He was enjoying himself, much to his own surprise.

But what was even more surprising to Oikawa was when you had suddenly flipped the switch, finding a unique way to corner _him_ on the board and force him into a less threatening position. OIkawa's brows rose in surprise, along with nearly everyone in the room. He moved his gaze between you and the board, a smile melting his composure. To think he could possibly _lose_ to this strange woman? 

His next move was careful, or so he thought. It apparently wasn't enough to counter your strategic mind. In your next move, you had Checkmate. With an airy, shocked laugh, Oikawa resigned the game. You had won. 

The crowd was a mix of shocked gasps and silent, wide eyes. Your face was split by a cheeky grin. "My apologies for breaking your streak, sir." You smiled at the handsome man, satisfied. Oikawa smiled back at you in shock and interest. 

"I haven't played such a good game in a very long time, (L/N)-chan. No apologies are necessary." He sighed with a smile and stood, dusting his suit off. He waved over the other young man that was with him, who quickly approached in response and held out a velvet sack for Oikawa. The brunette reached his hand inside and withdrew a handful of casino chips, handing them over to you. You accepted them hesitantly, your eyes widening.

"T-this is far more than either of us wagered, I can't possibly take this much!" You looked up at the brown haired man in shock, surely it was a mistake?

Oikawa shook his head and held up a hand. "Please, take it. It's the least I can do to repay you for such a good game. I hope to beat you next time." His smile deepened as he dipped his head in a slight bow. You stiffened in surprise, nodding slowly. _Next time?_

And just as strangely as he had come, Oikawa Tooru had left the VIP room being followed by a shocked silence. Many of the heads in the crowd turned back to you, some still with shock painted on their faces and others looking at you with something indecipherable. You stared back in confusion, unable to understand why they all seemed so... Afraid? You turned your head again. Was that man looking at you with _pity_ in his eyes? But you had just won! Why would he pity you? 

You didn't understand, and you didn't care to either. All you knew was that you had met a handsome man, beat him at a great game of chess, and won an insane amount of money for the night. All you knew was that you would be playing that man _again_ in the near future. Your heart leaped with excitement.

Just who was Oikawa Tooru?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a curious mind was a blessing and a curse. 
> 
> Who knew it would lead you to this?
> 
> They do say curiosity killed the cat, after all.

Having a curious mind was a blessing and a curse. Who knew it would lead you to this?

Your visits to the Aoba Casino became more frequent as you managed to win more and more money. At first you had intended to stop gambling once you made enough to pay off a few months rent, but as you got higher and higher wins in the VIP section, you couldn't find it in you to stop. And now that you had met the mysterious Oikawa Tooru, you didn't _want_ to stop.

You had encountered him multiple times since the first chess game, and nearly each time you had beaten him with great difficulty. But he had gotten better, that much was obvious. The very last visit, he had finally beaten you. It only made you want more.

And so you got more. 

Over the span of the next 3 weeks, you had managed to come to the casino at least 2x per week. And at least half of those times, Oikawa was there. As if he were _waiting_ for you. It became less of a shock to the casino-goers to see him playing chess with you; they grew used to it. And so had you.

It was strange to say, but Oikawa was somewhat of a _friend_ now. He was a kind man, from what you knew so far. Despite his clearly powerful position here at the casino (which you assumed solely based off of the looks people gave the two of you), you were not afraid of him.

What reason would you have to fear that goof? Why was it that everyone here seemed to turn the other direction the second they saw him?

(Oh, if only you had known).

You found yourself enjoying your visits to the casino, particularly the times when Oikawa would show up. You enjoyed his company, and you had even grown to like the man that acted as his bodyguard; Iwaizumi Hajime. You would often laugh at their antics, especially when they would argue with each other. It was clear to you that they had been friends for a _long_ time, and that they had been through a lot together.

You had fun with Oikawa. All you did was play chess together, but he was by far the best player you had ever faced. He was quick thinking (to the point that it was downright scary), but aloof and carefree at the same time. He made you laugh. You believed him to be a kind man. Perhaps the two of you were even becoming friends, albeit in a very strange way.

Oh, how wrong you were. (Right?)

It was on the 5th week of your casino visits that your view of Oikawa Tooru changed completely. 

•┈┈┈••✦ ✦••┈┈┈•

You were embarrassed to admit you were disappointed that Oikawa had not shown up tonight. You had gone through 7 games of chess and a few rounds of Poker (winning nearly each one of course), yet Oikawa had never arrived. You sat alone in the chess area, having already beat out the willing players. 

_He must be busy,_ you thought. You wondered for a moment what he could possibly be caught up with at 9pm on a Thursday. What was his job? Clearly it was something important, if he was allowed into the VIP lounge. Not to mention the staff and other gamblers seemed wary of him.

Perhaps he was some sort of CEO? Maybe you could look him up later. Wait, _no_ , definitely don't do that. You couldn't get yourself attached to him in any way; you knew you needed to end your casino visits entirely. The gambling needed to stop before you lost control of yourself again. Getting attached to someone affiliated with the casino, or anyone at all for that matter, was _not_ what you needed right now.

Sighing, you grabbed your half filled martini glass and walked away from the empty chess section. Perhaps a walk would clear your mind, and hopefully in the meantime more opponents would come out of the woodworks.

Your black pumps clicked as you made your way down the opulent hall, keeping your eyes straight to avoid accidental eye contact. This half of the casino was ridiculously beautiful, and was clearly designed to keep its guests' tastes in mind. The low hum of the high rollers behind you soothed your nerves as you exited the VIP room, pausing at the foot of the stairs. You looked around to gage where you should go next.

The regular casino section ahead of you looked particularly busy, and from what you could hear, it was loud. You cringed and turned away, uninterested. To your left was a cluster of bathrooms alongside what you assumed to be the kitchen, and to your right... Well, you weren't particularly sure what was to your right.

It looked unassuming, just a normal, dimly lit hallway with what appeared to be stairs at the end. With your curiosity peaked, you didn't hesitate to make your way down the red velvet covered hall. You walked slowly as you entered, peering inquisitively at the expensive paintings and portraits lining the walls. All of the doors along the hall were closed, with no label identifying any of them. You weren't sure what could possibly lie within these rooms, though you were sure it had something to do with the casino's managers and workers.

That became especially clear to you when you reached the top of the stairway, which had an emboldened 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' sign along the railing. You raised a brow and took a quick peek behind you; nobody was there.

What could be the harm in taking a little stroll? You could always claim you hadn't seen it (even though the sign was ridiculously large), right?

(What an idiot you were). 

And so you carefully made your way down the stairs, thankful that the steps were padded with carpet so your heels didn't make a peep. The staircase spiraled slightly, and before you knew it you had reached the bottom. The downstairs, from what you could tell, was even more dimly lit than that hallway had been.

You cautiously took a sip of your martini, observing the basement. Like the upstairs, it was still opulently decorated and covered in lush red velvet. The paintings on these walls were much _older_ , showing a lot of aging and history. You took a step closer. Most of these paintings were portraits, and from what you could tell, they were _family_ portraits. 

You rose a brow as you inspected one of them, which depicted an older gentleman and his wife, clearly from somewhere in the mid 1930's based on the clothing and decorations. There was something cold and detached in their eyes, and it made you shiver. You stepped away with furrowed brows, unsettled by the dispassion you could see in the painting. You shook your head. _It's just a painting_.

You continued to make your way down the new hall, passing a few open doors along the way. All the rooms down here clearly held some sort of purpose, but the only ones you had passed just appeared to be offices and living rooms, all equally decorated with expensive looking furnishings.

You were beginning to lose interest in exploring the empty rooms of the casino's basement, when something loud made you stop in your tracks. Down at the end of the hall, coming from a room hidden by large, carved mahogany double doors, was _shouting_. Men, by the sound of it. It didn't sound like friendly shouting either. No. This sounded downright violent.

You gulped and clutched your glass closer to yourself. You knew deep in your mind that you should leave. Flee before anyone finds you, especially the angry men hidden in that room. You knew you would be in trouble, possibly even in _danger_ if you didn't leave now.

But you couldn't. 

Having a curious mind was a blessing and a curse. 

(Who knew it would lead you to this?)

Self control wasn't something that was in your vocabulary. If something peaked your interest, you wouldn't have the gall to stop yourself from learning about it. And so that's how you found yourself inching closer to the large doors. The dim light illuminated the entrance, revealing that they were open just a crack.

Carefully, you edged closer and peered inside the room. It was just as dimly lit as everything else around you, but you could see a fair amount. All the while, the shouting had gone down slightly.

Now that you stood closer, hidden behind one of the doors, you could hear the conversation fairly well. 

"-payments are late again, Futamata. I don't want to have this conversation with Terushima again, you got that?" You heard a deep, eerily calm voice speak. It sounded vaguely familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you had heard it before. You didn't understand what they could possibly mean by 'payments'. Perhaps this was a conversation between the casino owners? You couldn't figure it out. You edged closer, just in the slightest.

"I-I'm sorry sir! T-Terushima was just missing a portion, he was h-hoping he could pay in i-intervals, sir." A far less calm, more high-pitched voice stuttered out nervously from behind the door. You wondered briefly who this Terushima man was. Perhaps a partner of the casino?

You heard the first man hum quietly in response, though you couldn't tell if that were a good or a bad thing. 

"Give me the tantō." They finally answered, their tone cold. It send shivers down your spine. You raised a brow. What would they need a tantō blade for? You peered further into the room, finally getting a glimpse of something. Your gut lurched nervously at the sight. What... Why was a young man tied to a chair like that? You didn't understand. 

At the sound of the word, the tied down man let out a frightened shriek. You jumped slightly in shock as he began writhing desperately in the chair. Under the dim lights, you just barely noticed a wave of fresh tears pour down his cheeks. "Please! We'll have the rest of the payment soon! I beg of you, please!" His words grew more garbled as he began to sob miserably, his fear nearly tangible. Goosebumps appeared on your arms as you continued to watch with a sick sense of fascination. You didn't understand what in the hell was going on here, but for some reason you couldn't look away. 

You knew somewhere deep in the back of your brain that this situation was horribly wrong. That this was something dangerous, something terribly violent. You should have known better than to keep watching. But you didn't. Your curiosity overpowered your rational mind as you continued to peer inside. 

You saw the glimmer of a knife in the light, held in a large, rough looking hand. They traced the edge of the tantō blade with their other hand in a familiar, well-practiced manner. Your heart lurched in your throat. _Why do they have a knife_?

(Oh, if only you knew).

You watched as the black haired, terrified man continued to writhe and thrash in the seat. But it was no use, their arms and feet were tied down. "NO! NO, PLEASE!" His scream grated your ears and made your stomach twist and turn with unease. A cold sweat grew at the back of your neck.

"You will learn from this, Futamata." The first man spoke again. "Hold out your hand." He ordered firmly. The black haired man cried harder.

"P-Please." He blubbered desperately, shaking his head.

"I said, hold out your hand!" The first man ordered again, agitation and impatience clear in his tone. The tied down man gulped in silence, finally doing at ordered. He splayed out his hand on the armrest.

(TW: Slight gore)

The first man hummed in approval. You watched in horror and shock as he suddenly stepped closer, gripping the knife tightly, before bringing out down upon the man's ring and pinky finger. Your eyes bulged at the sight. The man's pained screams fell deaf on your ears, replaced by an intense ringing sound. You felt bile rise in your throat at the sight.

Your heart felt like a frog in your throat as the man pushed the knife into the other's fingers with enough force to cut them off. And off they came. You watched with wide, horrified eyes as the leftovers of his fingers fell to the ground. Rivers of blood spurted from his twitching hand as he screamed and cried in pain. The blood rushed out and covered the clothing of the offender, who slowly rose from his crouched position and handed the knife to someone behind him. His visage suddenly became illuminated in the dim light as he stood to his full height.

Your heart stopped.

Oh.

 _Oh_. 

There he stood, his expensive clothing dripping with rivulets of blood. His chocolate brown hair was messy from exasperation, clearly having been run through by rough fingers multiple times already. His brown eyes watched the tied up man writhe with a sick sense of satisfaction. Your gut lurched. Your hands trembled.

You dropped the martini glass.

The shattering noise that followed broke the spell of your ringing ears. You froze like a deer in headlights. (You knew, then, that you shouldn't have come down here). 

So did the man inside the room. You watched in panic as he swiveled around, his eyes lit up with anger. He suddenly marched forwards towards the barely open doors, reaching out for the handle to find out who had been spying on him.

You held in a terrified gasp as you stepped backwards, intent on running away. Or at least, you were going to try. Until your trembling legs tripped over the lip of the carpet, and you went crashing backwards. You fell unceremoniously onto your backside, wincing at the sharp sting of pain it provided. What was worse was that your leg had landed upon the broken shards of glass, which were now digging into your calf and the back of your thigh. Your panic only grew. It was too late. You wouldn't be able to escape like this.

The double doors swung open. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as your gaze snapped upwards. You trembled on the floor, bleeding and crying, your heart pumping a million miles a minute.

This wasn't at all how you expected to see him again. Not like this.

It suddenly all made sense to you. You didn't comprehend the reasons behind it, but now the fearful glances and horrified murmurs of the VIP crowd made sense to you. You did not know who Oikawa Tooru was, but they clearly did. 

Oh, you really should have known better.

They say curiosity kills the cat, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! I wanted to keep it brief but spicy :P
> 
> And with the election happening today (and probably for the next few weeks considering absentee ballots), I wanted to pump something out while I still could. Hoping we vote him out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use the terms Yakuza and Mafia interchangeably

It was an understatement to say that Oikawa Tooru was furious.

It wasn't often that his subordinates and business partners were late on their payments, but when it did happen, it was not something that Oikawa took lightly. When Futamata had arrived with only a portion of the money Oikawa was supposed to be receiving, the boy knew instantly what was coming for him.

All it took was a snap of Oikawa's fingers for Iwaizumi and Matsukawa to tie Futamata down. Said boy was trembling in fear, and Oikawa almost felt _bad_ for him. He was a rookie, after all. Fresh blood. New to the world of the yakuza. It was a wonder that Terushima had decided to send _him_ to meet directly with Oikawa. But Terushima was a wildcard, so in a way it made sense. 

With years of interrogation and intimidation experience under his belt, Oikawa was adept at tuning out the screams of terrified men. It wasn't difficult at all for him to ignore the way Futamata writhed in his seat, terrified of the punishment that was surely coming for him. Oikawa hummed as Iwaizumi handed him the tantō blade. It was a blade used traditionally among the Aoba Johsai Yakuza for this exact purpose; to remove the ring and pinky fingers of those who fail to complete their tasks accordingly. Oikawa had done this many times in his life.

He turned the blade over in his hands, admiring the way it glinted in the dim lighting. He could see Futamata writhing in his peripheral, begging and crying to be released. That did nothing to deter the brunette. If anything it only made him look forward to his task even more. Oikawa had grown to appreciate his role of torture and interrogation over the years in the Aoba Johsai Yakuza.

Being a higher up in the group (second only to Nobuteru Irihata), torture and interrogation is often left to the lower ranked members. However, Oikawa had insisted that he keep up the role from time to time. If anything, it became somewhat of a release for him.

Oikawa took a step forward, moving his eyes from the blade and onto Futamata. Said boy's eyes widened drastically with fear as he pushed back into the seat, trying to get as much distance as possible. "NO! NO, PLEASE!" He screamed. Oikawa's irritation only grew.

"You will learn from this, Futamata. Hold out your hand." He replied, watching as the black haired boy's cries became more frantic. "P-Please."

Oikawa resisted rolling his eyes. Iwaizumi cleared his throat from the back of the room, urging Oikawa to hurry up. He complied, getting closer to Futamata and ordering him once more. "I said, hold out your hand!" 

The brunette hummed in approval once Futamata splayed his shaking hand out on the armrest of the chair. Oikawa did not hesitate to step closer and bring the knife down upon the boy's fingers. He pushed past the layers of flesh and pressed into the bone, not satisfied until it cracked and broke under his pressure. He ignored the screaming of the black haired underling, choosing instead to watch his fingers fall to the floor.

Oikawa did not care that his blood was spewing out everywhere and ruining his expensive clothing. The deed was done. Satisfaction flowed through his system as he drowned out Futamata's pained cries. He stood to his full height, narrowing his eyes as the light above him hit his face, before handing the knife off to Iwaizumi.

Just as Oikawa was turning around to get his coat and prepare for departure, there was a noise from outside the door. Glass shattered. The brunette man froze. _Someone's here._ Nobody was allowed into this part of the casino. Nobody but Oikawa and his men. Employees and guests were absolutely prohibited. 

_Someone's curiosity got the better of them, it seems. What a shame_. Oikawa did not enjoy hurting innocent people. He could only hope the offender wasn't a woman; Oikawa despised hurting women. (His persona as a ladies man was no joke). But regardless, this person needed a lesson.

He turned towards the door angrily, noticing the open gap. _Someone was definitely watching_. He walked forwards, tensing his shoulders, and reached out for the door. More noise followed from outside.

Oikawa could only guess that the person had fallen, or at least that's what it sounded like. He heard glass crunch underneath them. Without another moment's hesitation, he threw open the door to glower at whoever eavesdropped on his 'conversation'. He hated dealing with things like this. With miscalculations and errors, with idiots who got too curious for their own good. It irritated him to no end. He figured he may as well be quick with this and get rid of whoever had seen him. 

But then he looked down. And then he saw you, trembling pathetically on the carpeted floor covered in blood and tears. (Y/N) (L/N). A woman he didn't want to admit he had become friends with in the past few weeks. It wasn't often he got the chance to talk to women, considering how busy his 'job' kept him. Meeting you was refreshing; a good change in pace for his dull life. Oikawa had momentarily enjoyed your presence and banter, and perhaps even _looking forward to_ playing chess together. 

But now here you were, and it was too late to look forward to such things. 

For once, Oikawa Tooru was speechless. His expression had morphed from anger to shock, baffled by your crying and bleeding presence below him. Oikawa was known for many things, and mercy was not one of them.

However, he suddenly found himself immobile in your presence. Unable to act. Unable to fulfill his duty. He knew what he had to do, after all; it was something he had grown accustomed to over the years.

(Murder, that is.)

But with you, crying and looking absolutely pitiful beneath him, that instinct did not come to him. In fact, the sensation he got was quite the opposite. The urge to _protect_. He didn't want any harm to come to you in that moment, especially not at his hands. 

He wasn't quite sure _why_ , considering the two of you had only talked on a handful of occasions. You had barely ever even touched each other, for Christ's sake. So why on earth did Oikawa feel the desire to pick you up off of the floor and take you someplace where nobody could harm you? 

_Why Why Why Why Why-_

"Oikawa, what the fuck is taking so lon-" Oikawa snapped out of his thoughts as a very angry Iwaizumi rounded the corner to come out the doors, trying to figure out why he hadn't taken care of the intruder yet. With one glimpse at the pale complexion of Oikawa's skin, Iwaizumi knew something was up. His sage green eyes drifted down to the floor, and he felt his gut clench.

 _Ah_. He thought, suddenly understanding his friend and boss's hesitation. It was you, laying there on the carpet covered in blood, sweat and tears. A strange sense of pity flowed through Iwaizumi. He knew why Oikawa was stalling. 

Iwaizumi knew his friend and boss very well. He knew Oikawa was childish, impulsive and rude, but he also knew that he was _very, very good at his job._ Intimidatingly so. But _this..._ This felt different. Iwaizumi suddenly found himself unsure of what his friend would do next. Protocol called for you to be disposed of, but he had a feeling Oikawa wouldn't go through with that.

That lanky idiot had talked about you incessantly for the past few weeks, ever since you had beaten him that first time. (Which, Iwaizumi remembered, was the first time Tooru had lost a game of chess in his entire life). Iwaizumi knew his friend had a thing for smart women. Not to mention pretty ones. So when you showed up, being a dangerous combination of the two, he knew Oikawa would be weak at the knees for you. It wasn't often he had the time to see and engage with women, yet Oikawa had somehow made arrangements to always be able to play at least one game with you over the last few weeks. (His persistence had given Iwaizumi a lot of trouble, recently).

Iwaizumi ran a hand over his face in frustration. _Of course things have to happen like this_ , he thought. He knew the rules. He knew the consequences that came for people like you, people who stumbled upon things they shouldn't have seen or heard (accident or not, they all meet the same fate (until now)).

The two larger men continued to stare down at you menacingly from where you sat, trembling pathetically like a mouse in the claws of a house cat. Beads of sweat dripped from your temple down to the nape of your neck, revealing to the two men your physical signs of anxiety. More tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you bit your lip, moving your gaze from Iwaizumi back to Oikawa. 

You suddenly realized you didn't know a single thing about this man. How naive of you to think you had become his friend over the past few weeks. How ridiculous of you to believe you had some semblance of a connection or even an _understanding_ with the brunette. You had none of those things. This man was a stranger to you. _He's always been a stranger_ , a small voice in the back of your head reminds you. You gulp at the thought. 

After what you just witnessed, you were sure Oikawa was going to kill you. You were nothing but next week's trash to him, surely. Something to dispose of. 

You don't know how, but you somehow found your voice. Weak and shaky as it was, you still managed to say, "O-Oikawa-san, p-please don't-" _kill me_. The thought of finishing that sentence made more bile rise in your throat. 

Through the blur of your tears, you saw Oikawa's lips twitch downwards into a grimace. His gaze wavered, suddenly making him appear _nervous_. You couldn't fathom why.

You watched as Iwaizumi stepped closer to the brunette, raising a hand to place on his shoulder and squeeze harshly. "Oikawa." His tone was just as tense and cruel as his face as he looked up at his friend. It almost sounded like an order, but for what? You had no clue. Oikawa seemed to flinch at the sound of his name.

You scooted backwards at the sound of his voice, ignoring the way the scattered glass dug further into your thigh and hands. Oikawa turned to look at his friend, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation between their gazes. The brunette suddenly shook his head and furrowed his brows, returning his gaze to you. Your eyes widened in fear. 

You weren't stupid. You knew what happened to people like you who got caught up in these types of situations. It was beyond obvious now that Oikawa was not who you thought he was. And now, you knew, that his only option was to _kill you_. Maybe it was a little ridiculous to compare this situation to what you'd seen in movies, but it felt fitting. You were just caught in the crossfire, and anyone caught in the crossfire is always the one who dies. 

A strangled sob escaped your throat as you scooted back again, only succeeding in digging the shards of glass further into your leg. You winced as the pain forced more tears from your eyes. You shook your head vehemently as you looked up at Oikawa, your lips downturned into a wince. He regarded you with an almost pitying expression. 

"P-please," You never thought you'd end up in a situation where you had to beg for your life. It had never crossed your mind, really. You always thought you'd die of something peaceful like old age. Never _this_. 

Oikawa's grimace only deepened. "Hajime, I-" He turned to his friend and raised his brows, as if asking for advice. Iwaizumi gave him a stern glare, before moving his gaze to you. His face softened slightly with sorrow. He wondered briefly if it would really be ok, to not dispose of you here. Perhaps they could find a way to make you stay silent. Oikawa was dead set on not killing you, after all. He _never_ called him Hajime instead of Iwa-chan. 

He took a step forwards, and suddenly something within you ignited. Fight or flight. Through your tear blurred vision, you narrowed your gaze and snatched up a large shard of glass, before lunging for the man's ankles. Your survival instincts were instantaneously in full swing, pumping adrenaline through your veins to overpower the pain and fear you felt. Iwaizumi leapt back in surprise, but not before you managed to nick him in the heel. It wasn't much, and it certainly wouldn't stop the larger man, but it sent a rush of triumph through you. You heard Oikawa inhale sharply, moving to also step forward.

Instantly, you surged to your feet and used your momentum to swing out your uninjured leg, slamming your shin into the crook of Oikawa's knees. The man's eyes bulged as his legs gave out on him, forcing him to crumple down to the floor and narrowly avoid the remaining glass. His momentary struggle to get up, you knew, was your only chance. Abruptly, you turned on your heel and sprinted down the hall. The waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins allowed you to ignore the stinging pain emanating from the back of your thigh. 

"OI!" You heard Iwaizumi shout from behind you, his voice slowly getting closer. Desperate tears sprung to your eyes as you sped up your mad dash, aiming for the stairs which were only meters away. You reached out a hand towards the railing and felt a swell of hope ballooning in your chest, only to be popped seconds later.

A harsh force suddenly hit your back, knocking the air out of you. You surged forwards into the red velvet carpet, groaning as you made rough impact with the hard floor. You coughed and wheezed as a heavy weight climbed onto your aching back, pressing you down into the floor. Blood dribbled down your nose and into your mouth. You opened your eyes and saw the stairs right in front of you, so close but so far away. 

Distressed tears sprung from your eyes as your body wracked with sobs. The heavy weight on top of you shifted, pulling your arms from your sides to behind your back. You sobbed louder, thrashing desperately underneath the large body. "Please!" You begged, thrashing harder. You could hear the man above you scowl. Dread filled your veins as you continued to flail underneath them, but it was no use. You were trapped. Your fate was sealed.

You stopped thrashing, going limp in the man's hold and resting your head on the carpeted floors. Your tears and blood soaked the velvet beneath you, but you didn't care. You felt the adrenaline fade from your system, allowing the full brunt of your pain and fear to creep back inside. You felt the horrible stinging on the back of your thigh, pulsing more with each sob. Exhaustion took over your frame, forcing your sobs to quiet. 

The world grew dark around you, fading in and out of black. Your ears rung as you just barely picked up hushed whispers in the background. This was the last thing you would experience, you realized with trepidation. Your heart sunk. 

One remaining tear fell from your eye as you let the fatigue take over. The world faded to black.


End file.
